50 Shades and Blurred Lines Part 2
by CockEyedGopher
Summary: Just when there's a "Happily Ever After" - or so it seems - sometimes Life has other plans...


Chapter 27

"How are things going with the situation you _mentioned_ but..._wouldn't_ mention, the last time I saw you?" Dr Flynn asked, smiling in amusement.

Christian cleared his throat and looked away nervously, then regretted it instantly. Flynn's X-ray vision was almost as highly attuned as his own and he didn't want to give himself away. He recovered immediately, making his face as unreadable as possible and meeting Flynn's steady gaze. "Things are progressing. I set up a sit-down meeting with the other parties to settle this whole thing", he said, waving dismissively.

"When is the meeting?"

"Tomorrow", Grey replied, taking a sip of water and making damn sure to maintain eye contact with Flynn the entire time.

He realized it was too little too late anyway when Flynn continued on.

"So...how are things going with... other situations?"

For some reason Flynn had decided to tapdance around the subject this time before going in for the kill, and that just made Christian even more skittish. He decided the only way to get the upper hand in this exchange was to confront it directly.

"You mean Hope." Not a question. A statement.

"Yes. The distance is continued and permanent, right? No more problems?"

The good doc sounded hopeful. He liked Ana, and thought she'd done Christian a world of good, and that was true; the amount of progress Christian had made since she came into his life was unbelievable. Flynn, in spite of his responsibility - and desire - to remain the impartial shrink, had grown quite fond of Christian and somewhat emotionally invested in seeing the guy be happy and not fuck things up.

Christian couldn't take the tiptoeing anymore, and he wasn't much for lying. "Things are going fine."

Flynn pressed on. "So you did end contact for good and moved on from the situation. That's wonderful."

Christian faced him head-on. The two locked eyes.

"I slept with her five days ago."

Chapter 28

The new bodyguard was older, and all-business. In fact he was slightly...horrifying, the type of guy who was so tall and imposing, and had such a disturbing personal energy, that people seemed to treat him with kid gloves and go out of their way not to perturb him. In that sense he was really the perfect hire because no one wanted to end up on his bad side.

Plus there wasn't anything about him that Hope found even remotely attractive or engaging and she suspected that was a significant factor in why Christian chose him in the first place. Yes, this time Christian hand-picked the guy himself - or at least that was what the new guy told her, when he showed up at the condo escort her to class the day after Mike got his walking papers.

Hope hadn't seen or heard from Christian since then; instead he'd managed to hire still more employees to take over all the things that involved even the smallest degree of interaction with her. He was avoiding her like the plague, clearly; and while that bothered her, considering what had happened, at the same time it was a relief; things had clearly gotten out of hand and taken a wide turn down a path she never intended to travel in the first place.

What she did more than anything was try to block the whole thing out; thinking about it called up a mass of conflicting emotions that she didn't want to confront. More than anything else, she didn't want to think too deeply into it because she didn't want to think about what kind of person it made _her_.

Lunch hour was only one class away and Hope wasn't particularly thrilled by the implications of that prospect.

Her chickenshit streak got the best of her and she suddenly decided today was a great day to hide out..._uh, have lunch_, she corrected herself mentally - in the campus cafeteria. As she stood in line to ring up what was probably enough food for a guy twice her size, she realized the cafeteria detour was ultimately a pointless exercise. If Christian did decide to show up and couldn't find her, he'd just call the guard anyway. Apparently, extreme guilt, shame and fear made her temporarily stupid.

It turned out to be a needless worry anyway because the guard's phone never rang.

Chapter 29

A couple nights later she sat in the kitchen halfway into a giant bowl of spaghetti when she heard the lock on the front door and involuntarily cringed. She knew that eventually they'd have to face one another again - it'd been an entire week - but suddenly felt a strange, overwhelming desire to lock herself in the bathroom or hide in the closet like an episode of South Park.

Instead she just stayed planted where she was; she didn't think she could move anyway.

She heard his footsteps as he made his way across the foyer and then, down the main hallway, apparently stopping long enough to glance in each room he passed, expecting to find her. When he stopped just outside the kitchen entrance, she didn't bother to turn around.

He saw her sitting there and her fear was readily apparent to him - it was in her body movements or more accurately, lack therof - she sat motionless, as though paralyzed by fear and his heart sank into his stomach. This wasn't the reaction he wanted, or hoped for, and he felt a bit crushed by it, and discouraged - but he understood it. He'd gone out of his way to avoid coming over for the past week, probably for a lot of the same reasons she sat in front of him like she were on the verge of shitting herself, right now.

He crossed the kitchen, went around the island so he was standing in front of her. _You don't want to look at me, but you will_, he thought.

"Long time", he said quietly. He noticed that she only seemed to be capable of getting her eyes up as far as his chest. He was exasperated by this point; part of him wanted to shake her and snap her out of it; the other part wanted to extend his hand and comfort her but she seemed on-edge enough that he thought probably the worst thing he could do right now, was make any sort of physical contact.

He decided to try light humor. "Mmm, it _is_ a pretty nice counter-top," he mused wryly. He bent and contorted himself a bit so that his face was at her eye level and she'd be forced to look at him. She glanced at him, and he took the opportunity to mimic the wide-eyed look on her face dramatically to great comedic effect; then she looked away, blushing and involuntarily smiled.

"_That's_ more like it", he said and came around the island, catching her off-guard by grabbing her, gently lifting her off the barstool and placing her on the floor. He threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close to his side, rubbing her arm lightly as he steered them both toward the living room, trying to thaw her out, make her comfortable with him again. _Don't try and pull back from me now, I've already been everywhere_, he thought to himself.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me", he announced to her good-naturedly, then sat her down on the sectional, and pulled up an ottoman, parking himself directly in front of her.

"Okay", she piped up quickly, and he immediately sussed out what she was doing and laughed.

"No baby, you'll have to do better than that" he murmured, watching her intently. She seemed to tense up again slightly at the term of endearment, and was still having a hard time making eye contact with him.

"You can't even look at me," he mused, almost as if he were thinking out loud to himself. Then something seemed to occur to him; he lowered his voice and spoke gently, "What's wrong, did I hurt you?"

Hope shook her head no.

"Do you regret it?"

She shook her head no immediately, then halted and hesitated before finally blurting out, "Yes and no".

He took a breath calmly and then said carefully, in a very controlled measure, making sure to sound as uninvested as possible - he didn't want his own feelings to influence the answer she gave him. "Why?" he asked.

She blurted again before she lost the nerve. "You're married."

He went very still for a couple of seconds, and then as he processed what she'd just said, relief registered in his body language - his shoulders seemed to slump slightly, even though he was trying hard not to.

By this point her eye contact had improved a fair bit and she was taking in his expression, assessing his reactions.

After a slight pause, he replied honestly. "I feel wrong for what I'm doing, but I don't regret it."

She studied his face again and soon after he started up again she found herself averting her eyes once more. "I want you in my life. I love you and I don't want to lose you", he said, simply, earnest, very matter-of-fact. She'd visibly tensed up again, albeit not as badly as before.

"I'm not leaving my wife, or my family. I love my family...I just want us to be together, somehow. You make me happy", he said, and now he sounded and looked visibly embarassed.

She looked at him again then and saw his own confusion written all over his face, him trying to reconcile one with the other; he clearly seemed to be wrestling with it.

Then after a few moments he added, "But any kind of negative feelings you've attached to this whole thing, don't. It's not yours, it's mine. Any feelings about how this is wrong or not the right thing to do, it's my problem, not yours. You're free, you haven't done anything wrong."

Hope started to speak, but her mouth moved and the words didn't come out; no matter, he seemed to sense what she was going to say. "Let me worry about it," he said.

She didn't know how much she'd actually be able to do that, but she nodded, reluctantly.

"Okay" he said, and sighed again, this time not bothering to try and hide his relief, and seemed grateful that they'd gotten everything out on the table and the conversation was over with. He grabbed her hand and pulled lightly, getting her up from her seat and next to him on the Ottoman, draping his arm around her again and pulling her close to his side her head against his chest; it didn't bother him, and somehow that fact didn't surprise him much.

"Are we okay?"

She nodded slowly, tentatively. He kissed her forehead and then he seemed to remember something, and his tone suddenly changed and got very talkative, sarcastic and animated. "You know what, I talked to those people. How the fuck did you even deal with that shit for all those years? They're a bunch of _fucking cunts_. I think at this point they'll be a non-issue, but to be on the safe side I think you should stay here for a while longer. If you don't want to, we can make other arrangements, but I really think you still need to have some form of security still nonetheless, at least for a little while."

"How long are we talking?" Hope asked.

He hesitated "A few...months?"

"More guards for _months_?"

"I know, I know. Better safe than sorry".

"The new bodyguard you got me, looks like a psychotic Abe Lincoln on steroids."

He burst out laughing. "He's a scary motherfucker, isn't he. That's why I chose him. Plus, I knew he'd leave you alone."

"I suspected that was a reason too. Hey, I want to pay rent here." She turned to him.

"It'd be a...lot of money, Hope."

She understood where he was going with that. "I want to pay, something at least."

He sighed and didn't say anything else, just pulled her closer. After awhile he said softly, "Too tight?".

"No."

"...Good."

After another long pause, he started up again. "I missed you while I was gone."

She didn't say anything, but he could feel her smiling against his chest.

A short while later, Hope murmured, "I'm tired as hell."

Christian snickered, "Want me to take you to bed?", and, she tensed up slightly. He picked up on it and replied in amusement, "Not yet huh."

She didn't say anything. "It's alright, I'm a good boy; I can wait" he said, mischief in his voice.

A hour later he saw her in the hall. "You need anything, just yell? Alright?"

Hope nodded.

"You know this place better'n I do; I have no idea where any shit is."

"That's the BATHroom", she cracked, explaining the obvious like he was an imbecile, with an evil smirk on her face.

"Wiseass", he said, his crooked sideways smirk stretching across his face as he headed to his room.

A few hours later she was lying in the guest bed, staring at the ceiling, then the wall. She felt weird about it, but she got out of bed and made her way down the hall and knocked on the door. She was surprised he answered so soon, and sounded so awake, at that.

When she opened the door at his prompting, he noticed the quizzical look on her face, and answered sheepishly, "I'm not used to this bed yet".

"What the book?"

He rattled off the title to her.

"Heavy reading for just before bedtime."

"I tend to do that. I've heard it's not exactly sleep-conducive." He said wryly.

"Not really", she said, climbing onto the bed and watching his face carefully as he did. She didn't know if she was giving him the wrong idea or not; and she wanted to see what his reaction would be, what he'd make of her doing it.

His eyes were warm and he just smiled at her, a genuine smile. When she saw it was okay and there wouldn't be any misunderstanding, she pulled her feet up and pulled the blanket over her entire body, giggling in delight.

"Wait for me", he said, and climbed under the covers with her. She studied his face again and he caught her.

"Am I grinning like a jackass?"

"Yes".

She scooted closer and put her head and upper body on his chest. "What did they say to you?"

He knew who she was talking about. "Oh, I don't want to talk about that shit now, Hope, geez -"

"No one ever actually tells me what they say."

"Does it matter? A lot of it was so far-fetched or nonsensical that I had a hard time taking it seriously anyway," he glossed it over by withholding details, but the essence of what he told her, was the truth.

He rubbed her back silently for a minute, then started up again like a thundercloud out of nowhere, "You know, that motherfucker who said he fucked you, almost got his jaw broken. I wanted to bash his fucking head in".

"Christian?" she said, very measured, very carefully, "...What did you do?"

"Oh, don't worry, I didn't do anything to anybody."

"Really?"

"I stopped going around kicking everybody's ass, in high school. Not a good look for a billionaire."

"You're withholding", she murmured, yawning. "I suspect there's more backstory on that whole badass to pacifist transition."

He wasn't really surprised that she'd sussed that out - by this point he was used to their ability to read each other, but he wasn't going into his "50 Shades of Fucked Up", not right now, no way. He sidestepped the majority of her comment, and just reiterated again, "I didn't hit him."

She looked at him, and could tell he was telling the truth. "What DID you do, then?"

"I threw your underwear on the table in front of him and watched his face break into a million pieces." He looked at her, his face deadpan.

"You're so full of shit. You're clearly not gonna tell me, and I'm sick of trying to get it out of you, so I'll drop it", she said and a short while later, Christian heard her soft snoring and realized she was fast asleep.

Chapter 30

Dr. Flynn sputtered. "...You _what_?!"

The good doc had spent most of the last hour pestering Christian about his evasiveness during the sessions.

Exasperated, Christian finally agreed to tell him everything that had gone on, if the Dr went out to lunch with him and they discussed it there, off the record. He'd agreed, although socializing with patients went against the code of ethics as well, but he figured it was less of an offense then being told about criminal activity on-the-clock, and failing to report it to the cops.

"I was tossing my briefcase in the back seat before the meeting. I saw Hope's underwear from the day before on the floor back there. I stuffed them in my pocket on the way out. When these fuckwits started telling me how this fat _bast_ard in front of me fucked _my_ girlfriend, I told them _I_ took her fucking virginity...when the shithead kept trying to push that lie, I lost it, whipped the underwear out of my pocket, sniffed them and then tossed 'em on the table in front of the assholes and left."

Dr. Flynn sat there, his mouth slightly open, blinking repeatedly.

Christian looked stared at him head-on, his gaze unwavering, his eyes flashing. "They were bloody and torn."

Flynn suddenly didn't have an appetite anymore; he pushed his food away. Christian took note of it and set his mouth in a tense, hard line, but said nothing.

"...Bloody?"

"She was a virgin", Christian stated again simply.

"Torn?"

"I got a little too excited when we were in the midst. RRRRRrrrrip", he said, looking at the good doc, surpressing a grin, then went back to his meal.

Flynn was still staring at him.

Christian looked at him. "You know I'm fucked up, this isn't news to you. Remember, 50 shades." Christian went back to tackling his steak like he'd just told him he bought a new puppy.

"And now they've stopped making threats?"

"Of course", Christian replied in between bites. "Once I arranged surveillance in their houses and had private investigators follow them around for a while...let's just say they have a lot of...interesting...predilections." He shrugged.

Flynn looked at him expectantly. Christian sighed in exasperation. "I brought out a few pics of some of that shit, passed it across the table to them and made it clear that if they released the pics of us, and kept fucking with Hope, I'd gladly return the favor."

"Problem solved?"

"Problem solved", Christian said nonchalantly, popping another bite of steak into his mouth.

"I imagine they didn't take that too well."

"Of course not. Pop stars are used to always getting their own way."

"What did they say?"

"Not a whole lot really. The fat bastard was too busy staring at the knickers on the table in front of him. The short one looked like he found the whole thing hilarious. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought he wanted to high-five me. The women were too busy being horrified at a pair of bloody underwear on the table in front of them."

"What about the other one? Mr Household Name?"

"He just sat there blinking at me, he was too chickenshit to say anything until I was out of the room and halfway down the hall, then I heard him screaming his head off."

"What did he say?"

Christian squinted, trying to recall. "'You perverted, panty-sniffing motherfucker', or something along those lines."

Flynn stared at him with an odd mix of horror and awe. "Fifty Shades", he whispered.

"Absolutely", Christian said, lackadaiscally, sliding an oyster into his mouth.

Chaper 31

Hope got dressed after her last art-modeling class for that day, and was making her way to the class exit, fumbling with her textbooks when she felt eyes burning into her again.

_I know that glare_, she thought. She looked up, and there he was. He didn't look all that thrilled. He whispered something to the Abe Lincoln bodyguard, who nodded and then disappeared from the room.

He turned to the art teacher and thanked her for letting him and Abe sit in on the class. She giggled that he was welcome anytime, and he smiled politely at her before watching Hope turn and leave the classroom.

A few seconds later he was half a step behind her. "Lunch?"

"Yup," she said, glancing at him as he fell into step beside her. He looked more like something was bothering him than anything else, now that she'd gotten a good look. "What's the matter?"

He put his hand on her shoulder briefly - a gesture of reassurance, but never did answer her until they were safely in the car and heading toward the freeway. She had the window down, sitting back with her eyes closed and a cheshire grin on her face again savoring the sensation of the wind whipping by her face, when she heard him murmur, "Goddamn I hate your job."

She opened her eyes and turned and looked at him. That's what he was mad about? "You never mentioned it before."

"I wanted to. I wasn't particularly crazy about it from the very beginning."

Hope didn't say anything.

Christian drove along for awhile, saying nothing then tried again, "You could come work for me-"

"No."

Christian could tell by the tone of her voice that he'd stepped in it, offended her pride.

"I'm fine where I am," she stated flatly.

"I know you can take care of yourself" he replied, trying to de-fuse the situation. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?" She was in defensive mode now. He turned and looked at her, then he sighed and focused on the road again.

"You're so smart, you don't have to do this."

"Get naked, you mean". Not a question, a statement.

"Exactly."

"Male jealousy and insecurity" Hope said tersely.

Christian went silent for a few seconds, then admitted it. "Absolutely, there's that factor. I don't like the idea of a bunch of strangers - particularly men - seeing you naked, it bothers me. Besides that though, again, it's not like there aren't other avenues available to you. I don't think you have any idea just how intelligent you are - "

"Oh psssh, nonsense!" she said, cutting him off. "I'm fully aware that I'm fucking brilliant".

"Your humility is inspiring."

"You aren't all that humble either."

"...Another thing we have in common." He said softly.

He pulled into the underground parking lot turned the car off then turned and looked at her. He knew she could feel him staring at her, but she refused to return eye contact. She wasn't angry with him anymore, he knew that. This was something else.

_Memories_, he thought wryly.

He wanted to talk about it again, even though he could tell from her fidgeting that it was probably the _last_ thing she wanted. _I'm sick of you pretending it didn't happen now we're here in the same damn car and the same damn parking lot and I want you to acknowledge what happened_, he thought. _No running away_.

He kept his gaze steady, determined. _You will look at me. We aren't going anywhere until you do and we have it out_. She kept staring out her passenger window, then through the front windshield at the brick wall in front of them, and finally, down at her hands, and the whole time he stared. As he did it, she visibly became more and more agitated, more nervous, and he noticed the slight tremor in her hands, even though she tried desperately to hide it.

Christian made a conscious decision to push her past her breaking point. He realized he knew exactly how to do it, but decided to ease into it. "At least we got here in a somewhat peaceful fashion this time."

It was so faint, that it was almost unnoticeable, but he saw her tense up even more, as though she knew where this conversation were going, and was bracing for it.

_That_ pissed him off. He pushed further. He looked at her intently and lowered his voice, moving in closer. "The make-up sex afterwards was fun, though."

She visibly flinched and tried to recover by blurting in an unnaturally high voice, stammering and stuttering all over herself, "What's upstairs, is there a restaurant?"

He continued watching her with a weird mix of amusement, anger and anguish. This clearly wasn't easy for her and that bothered him, the idea of her feeling this level of anxiety and and not understanding why or being able to help her.

He propped his elbow on the top of his seat and put his head against his fist and smiled at her, although she didn't see it because she still wasn't looking at him. "Yes, baby, there's a restaurant upstairs".

"Yeah, that's probably obvious" she hurriedly amended her statement, her voice still too high, her vocal cords, stetched taut by stress. She babbled on - "What kind of restaurant is it, Italian, Chinese -"

Oh, he couldn't take this. Not anymore. She was so freaked out that she couldn't form a linear thought-string anymore.

He thought about continuing with the kid gloves, approaching the subject gingerly, but decided against it, that it just made more sense to confront it head-on and point out the elephant in the room. If she fell apart, he'd be there to put her back together afterwards.

"Yes, that's right, it's an Italian restaurant. The food's great but you never got an opportunity to try it because we wound up fucking each other down here in the back seat."

She froze, and he heard the faintest gasp.

"Hope, look at me. Look at me".

She turned her neck stiffly and looked first at his chest and then made her way up to his eyes.

His eyes were warm pools of grey, and his expression was soft, but his voice was firm."I fucked you in the back of this car. You fucked me. We made love, we had sex. Call it whatever you want, they all apply, because it was all those things."

She ran for refuge in sarcasm, quickly averting her eyes. "No Shit, Sherlock."

He charged on. "No Shit Sherlock? Okay then, why won't you ever acknowledge it."

She sat there silently. He grabbed her shoulders gently and turned her toward the back seat, to drive the point home.

Her voice wasn't at squealy-pitch anymore, and had returned to a moderate pace. "I did acknowledge it, three weeks ago."

"The extent of that was, 'No, you didn't hurt me', and, 'I kinda regret it, I kinda don't'. I'm gonna ask you again and I need you to be honest with me. Did I hurt you?"

She thought back to them pulling out of the lot afterwards, and him helping her out of the car at an isolated stretch of beach. "I want to show you something", he'd said quietly, walking her slowly to the water's edge, giving her time. She was limping a little and a bit sore, but nothing that she thought was excessive or abnormal.

"I love this view" he told her, taking a deep breath and stepping behind her, wrapping his arms down and around her. "I come here when I just need to be alone and collect my thoughts. It's beautiful."

It was.

She came back to the present. "I was sore and limping - you saw that, and you helped me, but I don't think it was any worse than what I've read is common with this sort of thing."

He stared at her intensely for a few seconds, reading her face, trying to assess whether or not she was telling him the truth. Eventually the worry drained from his face in a big gasp of relief. "Then is it guilt about the circumstances? Remember, I told you, that's my problem, not yours - "

"I know what you said, but that's really easier said than done. It's hard to just turn that off and feel nothing about it, when obviously I was there too."

He sat back and said nothing, silently acknowledging the truth of her statement. How she felt was how she felt. He couldn't just order her to feel a certain way about things and expect her emotions to fall right in line with it. He didn't continue that line of conversation because he knew where it could lead and he didn't want that, he didn't want her to leave him.

Instead he asked, "And that's it, there's nothing else that you aren't telling me?"

She looked at him questioningly.

"Any kind of past trauma? Attempted rape, sexual molestation?"

"No."

He gave her the once-over again, looking to see if she was telling him the truth. After a few seconds he saw that was the case, but still felt there was something, and said so.

"I don't know...I feel kinda ashamed", she said after awhile. "It's not because of any abuse or anything, but there's just this part of me that feels like I did something dirty. I know logically that it's stupid, but I keep feeling that whole 'Walk of Shame' mentality. There's...something else too. It's just that it's alot. Intense. Overwhelming."

_Now we're getting somewhere_, he thought.

He was off and going. "We're two consenting adults, who did something that is totally natural and what our bodies were meant to do in the first place. I don't give a good goddamned _fuck_ what anyone in society might have to say about it, and you shouldn't either. It's a indication of how fucked up society is that it teaches people to think there's something wrong with choosing to enjoy their bodies together as adults in the first place. The physical expression of love or desire gets the shit censored out of it but people have no problem with some miserable bastard in a movie getting his goddamn brains blown out. Fuck _that_ shit. "

It was a fantastic display. He turned and looked at her apologetically, offering a slow sideways grin. "Excuse my French."

She looked at him sheepishly. "I know that, but at the same time, what you know to be true and how you actually feel don't always match."

Christian sighed and took her hand. "I know, but it's no one's business but ours and if we make one another happy doing it, I think that's all that matters. God, the universe, Mother Nature, whoever, can't hold against us that all we do is make one another feel good. Especially in this world where a hell of a lot of sad fucks are trying to tear each other apart."

"As far as the overwhelming aspect, the intensity thing. Yeah, it is, absolutely. For me too, but I welcome it, I've gone without it for so much of my life. I get the feeling you have too, but wound up on the opposite end of the continuum - you want it, but it feels scary and foreign to you at the same time. It's not a race and we don't have to floor it, we don't have to be in a rush to get there."

He finished, and she turned and looked at the back seat and then around the darkened parking lot, and then into his face. "This fucking parking enclosure is one of my favorite places now", he whispered conspiratorially, his eyes dancing with dark humor.

Hope looked away, surpressing a laugh and a smile and only partially succeeding.

"We're getting there", he thought out loud, then leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips before she had the chance to realize what he was doing and dodge it like she had been for nearly a month.

And for the first time ever, she reached out timidly and took his hand. He expelled a sudden rush of air, and was silent for a long moment before he spoke up, his voice sounding a little raw, "Come on, let's go eat. I remember you said you like Italian; you'll love this place. I bet the owner's pissed, we're about thirty minutes late."

"Why didn't you tell me you made reservations? They probably gave up our seats."

"That'd probably be true if I weren't fucking loaded."

Chapter 32

A couple days later, Dr Flynn pointed out the obvious that Christian had overlooked."Many virgins initially feel bad when they start engaging in sexual activity, like everything they're doing is wrong, it's not that uncommon a phenomenon."

"I can't fucking believe that didn't occur to me."

Flynn nodded.

"I think what I told you a second ago, applies too though. As well as some things that group of morons mentioned to me at that meeting that I didn't remember until yesterday - something about Hope and social phobia. I think most of what they said was a steaming pile, but there appears to be some truth to at least that."

He fell silent for a minute, then added, "She mentioned something about it being too intense for her too. And truthfully, I understand where she's coming from. I've been around the block, you know that, but I've never experienced anything that intense with anyone before, not even Ana, as much as I love her. I loved it, but I can totally see why Hope found it utterly terrifying."

"Physical chemistry", the good doc stated.

"No no; there's that too - a lot of it - but I'm talking strictly non-physical here. Some kind of emotional...fusion, or something."

Flynn scribbled on his notepad.

"The strange thing is, I still love Ana. As much as ever, but I love Hope too."

"How is that strange? Human beings are complex; capable of feeling contradictory emotions simultaneously, that whole bag. It actually seems more illogical to me to think that a person can only be in love with one person at a time."

That seemed to totally surprise Christian.

"Having said that, I'm not advocating going out and acting on it but it's a little late for that now."

"I don't regret acting on it."

Flynn looked at him. "There's also another aspect to this, which is that you married the first woman you ever fell in love with, mere months after meeting her. Most people experience a few love relationships before they settle down and marry."

Chapter 33

A couple weeks later, Christian pulled up outside Oblin, watching students mill out of the building. He climbed out of the car and made his way toward the area of the quad where he usually found her, and waited.

About ten minutes later Hope finally emerged from the building, flanked on each side by male students; the bodyguard,Abe, following closely behind them. There had to be at least four guys. He clenched his jaw and shielded his eyes from the sun, watching them spill down the stairs and across the lawn.

He was making a conscious effort to keep his dark mood at bay, remembering the last time they argued over his jealousy - Mike. Sure, the aftermath was extraordinary, but he didn't care for a repeat of what led up to it, and he knew it wasn't good for Hope, either.

He hated to do it, but he made himself stay rooted to the spot, and watched the group cross the street, leaving campus on foot towards some undefined location. He'd never have let it happen if it weren't for Abe tagging along, Hope with a pack of strange guys...

_Hope with a pack of guys_...

He knew she'd be safe, but goddamn he was seeing red, and just barely keeping his anger contained. His head began to hurt, and he squinted against the sun, striding back to his car with a nagging sense of unease.

Ten minutes later his impulses overruled everything else again and he dialed Abe, demanding an update and current whereabouts.

Fifteen minutes later Christian sped down the freeway towards the condo with Hope buckled into the passenger seat beside him, fuming. The ride home was a silent one.

He followed her into the house and watched as she strode down the hallway wordlessly, haphazardly throwing her knapsack into the living room before turning on her heel and making her way into the kitchen.

He had a splitting headache, and followed her in, looking in all the cabinets until he found Advil, downing a couple then detouring into the home office, his laptop in tow to wait it out. This was a confrontation they had to have, and he refused to do it until he could think straight and wasn't bogged down with pain. He passed her in the hallway again, and she snapped, "Don't you have to work?"

"I'm the fucking boss and I work from wherever I like", he said humorlessly. The sound of her slamming the bedroom door reverberated throughout the entire condo.

Four hours later the festivities began.

The exchange started out rather innocently. Christian let himself into the bedroom and there she was, fast asleep. He sat down on the bed beside her and just watched for a little while, taking her in. He ran his hand over her head and down the side of her face and she seemed to unconsciously respond to the touch, leaning into the caress like a cat, moaning softly. He savored it for what seemed like a long time, then got up from the bed to get another blanket, draping it over her sleeping form. The constant stir of motion around her distracted her and she made her way back to consciousness.

She looked up at him and for a couple seconds her eyes were liquid warmth until she'd had an opportunity to get her bearings and remember what happened earlier. Then she turned to ice, sitting up and backing away from him toward the far end of the bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching all this quietly before he spoke. "I'm trying to get a handle on it."

"It's not working." She said coldly.

"True."

She looked at him.

"I'm doing the best I can here, Hope. I tried like hell not to follow you guys over there. Then when I saw that asshole's hand on your back, it was all over."

She didn't say anything.

After a long pause, he continued. "Why won't you get a different job?"

"Why should I? Just to pacify your jealousy and control issues?"

"No, not just that. The simple fact of the matter is, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Like I told you before, you could make more money just about anywhere else, and keep your clothes on doing it." He looked at her. "Even if you don't want to come and work for me."

"Why should I have to change my life." She repeated again.

He remembered the pictures the stalkers gave him - photographs of her in various stages of undress; intimate sexual acts. "You keep taking your clothes off for people in order to try and get what you want, and everything you want is totally meaningless."

She looked at him, incredulous. "You still think that."

There was silence for a split second, and then she was off like a shot, racing down the hall. He jumped up and followed after her, trailing her into the living room. She yanked her bookbag off the couch and strode out of the room past him, and he realized she intended to leave, and he broke out into a fall-on run.

A second later she heard rapid footfalls and sped up herself, knowing he meant to try and block her from getting out the front door, but in a matter of seconds he'd easily surpassed her, and positioned himself in-between her and the front door.

"That's what you think of me?" She kept shoving against him and trying to manuever her way around."You can't keep me here, you can't keep me here, let me out."

He grabbed her and brought both arms around, holding her away from the door, so that she could barely move. She struggled against him.

"You told me you thought what they said was bullshit", she grunted, still struggling to get out of his grasp.

"Hope, calm down, calm down" he said quietly.

Instead, she chose to keep ranting and struggling against him. She managed to wiggle free and just as fast, he'd caught her again, this time, throwing her across his shoulder and carrying her down the hall to the bathroom. She hollered and struggled against him the entire way there, but he got in easily anyway, locking the door behind them, and set her on her feet again, but not before posting himself in front of the exit route.

By this time she was worn out anyway and sat down on the edge of the huge tub, as far away from him as possible, glaring.

He sat on the floor in front of the door. "I didn't lie to you. That, and something they mentioned about social phobia, are pretty much the ONLY things they said that I believed had any basis in truth. I just didn't mention it again because it wasn't that important to me. It angered me, but it wasn't enough to change how I felt. It still isn't."

"You really think I would agree to something like that?"

"You pose nude for work. That didn't do a whole lot to make me doubt what they were saying."

"Art classes and agreeing to shower-cams and letting people watch you jack off, are two different things entirely", she snapped.

"In some of the pictures you mug directly into the camera", he challenged, his voice low.

"If you're stuck in a situation like that and there's nothing you can say or do to stop them, after so long you try and develop a sense of humor about it. It's either that or go nuts."

He studied her a long while, then : "The masturbation pics?".

"The result of dumb advice a former friend gave me - one of the few people I told who didn't immediately dismiss me as crazy. She said if it were her she'd live her life as though they weren't there, and suggested that they'd probably get bored shitless by that or start feeling like perverted assholes and go away. I tried it for awhile but never really felt right doing it, and it wasn't long before I realized they probably weren't going anywhere no matter what I did or didn't do."

He looked at her cynically. "You have an excuse for everything, don't you."

"If you were me, how would you have handled it?" Hope looked at him pointedly.

He studied her again, then had to admit she had a point. Someone who had limited resources and absolutely no prior experiences with something like this, would probably be at a loss. This type of thing was common in showbusiness circles and among the wealthy, but the average person on the street usually had no clue it even went on, much less an idea of how to handle it. He wasn't sure he bought what she was saying, but he was aware that it at least had some basis in logic, even if it was a dumb idea, but how who can say they haven't made dumb choices during the course of their lives? A lot of his early choices with Ana were far from smart; he remembered the whipping incident and colored visibly, but put that aside and continued on.

"For God sakes, why won't you get a different job".

"Initially, because of the social phobia, I didn't have any work history and found it nearly impossible to get ANY employment. In short, art modeling was one of the few things I could do that didn't require extensive training I couldn't afford or previous experience, and I wasn't interested in stripping or prostitution." She smiled sadly."My exes made it clear that they didn't think I had a whole lot going for me as a person - they didn't even think I was a _good_ person - but at times they were very blunt about...appreciating my nude form. I went, 'Okay, apparently I have a nice body, I can do this.' ".

Christian wasn't letting her off the hook that easy; he pinned her with his eyes. "Now you have enough work history where you can easily go out and find other work, but you won't. Apparently this works for you or you get something out of it, and don't tell me it pays great honey, because I know it's a lie."

She didn't have an answer for that one, and looked away. He remembered the first time he'd laid eyes on her, and her expression after the bathrobe hit the floor of the art room.

"You're getting something from it", he said quietly, "And I have a pretty good idea of what it is, and you would too if you stopped and thought about it long enough."

He finally stood, turned and unlocked the door, letting himself out.

Chapter 34

"Do you believe her about the home surveillance?" Dr Flynn looked at peered at Christian over his glasses.

"I don't know...but based on what I've seen of her personality over the time I've known her, it does seem weird to me that she'd consent to something like this, it takes a lot for her to really open up. But by the same token, she does pose nude. Maybe she's lying about the surveillance, maybe not, and honestly at this point that's almost irrelevant to me, I still want her even with whatever stupid mistakes she might've made. I just wish she wouldn't _lie_ about it."

The doctor nodded, and Christian continued. "My whole preoccupation is the nude modeling at this point. I think it's a self-esteem thing for her, and she's totally oblivous to that fact; one of the only ways she can feel good about herself is getting naked and watching people gawk over her body. But there's a paradox in there, in the sense she gets upset when people seek her out because of it."

"That's how you met her", Flynn pointed out again, stifling a smile.

"Yes, but I told you before; that's not _why_ I sought her out" Christian exclaimed, exasperated. "I couldn't stop looking at her before she took the robe off."

Something seemed to occur to the good doc. "You know, these are your sessions, and we spend most of the time now talking about this girl."

Christian growled a little under his breath. "It's my goddamn money, and we'll talk about whatever I want."

A smile played at Flynn's lips, but he fought it off. "Some psychologists would say that you're using Hope as a means to distract you from your own issues."

50 scoffed, waving dismissively, "Oh, _bull_shit. I've been coming to see you for years day in and day out, confronting my own shit. Plus, talking to you about this keeps me somewhat sane; Lord knows if I had to try and figure her out on my own I'd _really_ be nucking futs."

"Nucking futs?" This time Flynn couldn't surpress his smile.

"_Nucking futs_", Christian reiterated, taking another swig from his water glass, his grey eyes dancing mischieviously all the while.

Chapter 35

He wasn't able to see her again until three days later, letting himself in the door as quietly as possible because it was that late and he didn't want to wake her. He slid into bed beside her as gently as possible but she still stirred and came to anyway.

He kissed her shoulder. "Shhh, go back to sleep", he chided, pulling the covers up over them both.

The next morning Christian found her in the usual spot, parked on the floor right in front of the tv...halfway into a biscuit sandwich from McDonald's. He cocked a brow at her curiously.

"How did you get that?"

She looked at him like he'd just said the dumbest thing in the world. "I went and got it."

He blinked at her impassively. The nearest McDonald's had to miles away and she didn't have a car, but his main gripe was the idea of her going out, without telling him and without security.

"Hope", he started, and she cut him off.

"Abe saw me about to head out of the main lobby downstairs and nearly had a coronary. He insisted on tagging along, and since he did and he had wheels..." She picked up the fast food bag and shook it at Christian triumphantly.

"...Any for me?"

"You wanted some? I thought anything that isn't rabbit food or gourmet-prepared, wasn't a your first choice ."

"It's not, because it's not healthy but I love this stuff. Comfort food to me, pleasant memories of sneaking out with my dad while my mom was away on business. She's a doctor." By this point he'd pulled up the Ottoman beside her, and leaned in, staring at the breakfast sandwich.

"Gimme", he said, moving forward even more and taking a big bite.

"I had a feeling I should've bought more than one" she said morosely, staring at the small chunk of that was left in her hand.

Christian leaned in even more, emitting a deep bass rumble in her ear as he chewed. "Mmmmhmm", and assessed her reaction as the vibration went through her and she visibly tensed; and he knew it wasn't from fear. He watched her, pleased that he'd gotten his desired outcome.

"Can I have some of that?" He said, his voice still low, and she seemed a bit disoriented until he pointed to the hashbrown patty in her hand. He didn't wait for an answer, swooping in and biting away half of it.

She was very still.

He chewed slowly, taking his time, his eyes boring into her, so close that he knew she could feel his breath against her skin.

She was avoiding his gaze again, this time fixing her gaze straight ahead at the fast-paced images parading across the television screen.

_I won't have that_, he thought, standing and going over to the television, pressing the power button and waiting until there was nothing there but darkness. He turned and looked down at her where she sat on the floor, and he caught her staring at his half-nude form, and that was exactly what he wanted.

She quickly shifted her gaze down to the rug on the floor beneath her, and that didn't deter him at all. He strode back acros the room to her, and took the last half of the hash brown from her hand, kneeling in front of her.

"You didn't finish", he said softly."Eat".He extended his hand to her, encouraging her to take a bite.

She looked up at him questioningly, but there was something else in her eyes too; she wasn't very successful at hiding it, even though she clearly meant to.

"Eat", he repeated again, his voice firm, still low, and he brought the food closer to her mouth.

She tried to diffuse the charge in the air by reaching for the hashbrown, but he pulled back gently, and waited until she brought her hand back down to her side, then extended the food again. She took a timid, hesitant bite.

"It's good, isn't it?" He said quietly and took another bite himself, before extending it to her again. A few seconds later, that was gone and he took what was left of the breakfast sandwich and repeated the same motions, this time pulling away whenever she avoided eye contact.

She stood up suddenly and grabbed the bag, apparently having thought of an excuse to leave the room and put some distance between them, but Christian wasn't going for it. In an instant, he was standing beside her, gently taking the bag and setting it on the living room table.

He took her hand before she could come up with another excuse to run from him, and led her from the room at a leisurely pace, past the guest bathroom he'd barricaded them in days before, into the bedroom and then the private bathroom attached.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to", he said softly. _But Goddamnit I want you to admit it, and so help me, by the time I'm done, you're going to be begging for it_, he thought. He shut the door behind them and turned to her, saying nothing, just looking. He knew what to do. He slowly closed the distance between them.

Chapter 36

He'd just brought the staff up to date on current status of the corporation - thriving, they'd made billions already and the year was only half-gone - informed them of his future plans for the team, and then returned to his seat. He was bored out of his fucking mind, and at some point during the supervisors' morale pep-talks, his mind started wandering aimlessly. It wasn't long before he remembered the morning before - frantic, high-pitched cries, pleading for him not to stop, the screaming of his name...

By this point he was beaming, and obviously everyone around him was clueless why. From the outside, he was just a business man, thrilled over the financial successes of the past few months.

Chapter 37

A week later Christian stood in the hall of the art wing, near the exit, his jaw tense. He hadn't mentioned her job again since the last face-off, trying to give her an opportunity to think about things for herself and make some kind of change of her own free will. The overprotective, jealous, control-freak aspect of him wanted to make her stop, but he knew it wasn't the right thing to do and so he'd pretty much bitten his tongue about the whole situation since then. But he wasn't sure he'd be able to much longer.

Watching the sessions firsthand just made him angrier, so he'd decided to forgo that. Besides, he'd done it a few times already and he didn't want the art faculty to start noticing a pattern, him always appearing at the back of one of their classrooms, always when this particular woman came in to pose for students. He didn't want people to start talking.

He ran his hands through his hair and squinted , watching the students file out of the rooms across the hall. The entire wing reeked of the smell of paint and sculpting materials, various other art supplies.

It wasn't long before he saw her emerge from one of the doorways, in her typical garb - the black mandarin-collar leather jacket; the clothes that looked like they came from the boys or mens section of Target, curiously finished off by black ballet flats; her blue messenger bag flapping and bouncing against her side haphazardly, the grey backpack strapped over both shoulders, dangling from her back.

He narrowed his eyes further, scanning the area around her to see if she had anyone trailing after her. There usually was, and today wasn't any different, this one a tall, big guy with a full beard, and Christian thought he'd go crazy. He made himself stay put and observed from a distance.

He saw her nod brusquely a couple times as the man handed her something, giving her a slow, predatory smile before turning in the opposite direction, heading away from Hope, the exit, and Christian, which was probably the best thing for the guy's safety.

She made her way down the hall toward the exit and as she passed a nearby garbage can, he saw her pitch whatever the man had given her inside, not even breaking her stride. A couple feet later, she felt his eyes pinning her and instinctively turned her head in the direction of the source.

She scanned his face, trying to get a read on his mood, and noted the warmth of his gaze and the soft expression on his face.

She asked him where they were going as she fumbled with the radio dial, turning first one way then another, before giving up in mild disgust when she didn't find any sounds to her satisfaction, shutting it off.

"Somewhere", he said enigmatically, turning to look at her, his lips twitching as he fought back a smile. He was still making goo-goo eyes at her.

"Obviously", she snarked sarcastically, gesturing toward the freeway then grinning at him.

He gave her a wide smile then turned his focus back towards the road. "I know you have a class this afternoon; I'm not heading out too far."

Hope fumbled through her jacket pocket and whipped out her phone, checking messages and the like, texting responses at rapid-fire speed. She could feel Christian's eyes burning a hole in the side of her head and slowly, so as not to startle him in mid-drive, turned her phone towards him and took a few snapshots as he laughed in surprise, then she assessed her handiwork.

"These aren't bad, maybe I should be a photographer."

He turned to her again, and his eyes seemed to be glowing and his face beaming.

"...Then again, it helps to have a hell of a subject", she mused softly.

"I think this is the first time I've ever had a real picnic", she said, looking down at the spread he'd set up. They were both on a huge blanket in a very green field...that appeared to be out in the middle of nowhere. Between them was enough food to feed a high-school football team.

Christian was lying on his side, his head resting on his palm; his brows went up. "Really?"

She nodded, then piped up, "Look at the pictures I took", passing him her phone.

He studied the pictures for a few seconds and he had a perplexed look on his face; she watched him curiously.

_I almost don't even recognize myself_, he thought.

Hope said aloud, "You're glowing like a pregnant lady", and he laughed, handing the phone back.

_That's exactly it_.

"You make me happy", he said simply.

"I love you", she said quietly, and averted her eyes quickly before he looked at her, picking up random sandwiches and containers of food, examining their contents.

_Oh no you don't_, he thought, springing into motion and in an instant, he'd crossed the distance between them and gotten her cocooned in his arms. It was the first time she'd ever copped to it. He knew all along, but he'd been waiting to hear her say it.

He got her on her back in the grass and she blurted, "What if someone pulls up out here?"

"Shut _up_", he hissed, going in for the kill. "I love you, I love you, I love you..." he murmured over and over as he got her out of her clothes.

"We're lucky that we didn't end up with some farmer-type unloading his shotgun full of buck shot in our bare asses", Hope quipped as they were halfway back to the city again, and Christian exploded in laughter.

Once he'd caught his breath again, he admonished her. "Goddamnit woman, you worry too much. The farmer was kinda busy at the time anyway."

She turned and looked at him. He met her gaze and gave one of his trademark sideways grins. "Yeah."

She gave him a priceless look and he burst out laughing all over again as she slid down in the passenger seat, putting her hands over her face.

Chapter 38

"I suppose I don't have to ask how life's been treating you?" Dr Flynn commented two days later.

It was all over his face anyway, but Christian chose to point out the obvious. "This is the happiest I've ever been."

He'd been texting her like he was possessed, all morning, and she wasn't used to it. She remembered all the times she'd begged him to talk to her, told him how she felt, and waited for him to show some sign, any sign, that he felt the way she did, desperate for him to return the kind of affection to her that she'd given to him for years. Now, long after she'd given up on him, he was saying all the things she used to dream he'd say, and she was having a hard time processing it.

He apparently sensed her reticence and resistance, and accused Christian of being the cause. She refused to even address those aspects of his statements directly and tried to steer the conversation in a different direction, but ultimately didn't have much success with that, and her ex was at fever-pitch when he replied :

"You have no idea what you're getting into with this guy."

Hope denied anything was going on with Grey at all at this point, but even that didn't deter the ex, who started emailing her paragraph after paragraph of the latest findings from his private investigator...

Christian's phone rang about fifteen minutes after noon. He was working through lunch hour, eating at his desk because he'd gotten bogged down in more proposals, mergers and paperwork and he was behind; everything was time-sensitive and had to be taken care of immediately, there wasn't any way around it.

He picked up the receiver, and that's when he heard Abe on the other end.

An hour later, Christian burst into the condo, calling her name, making his way from room to room, and when he'd gone through half the place and gotten no response, he broke out into a full-on run, screaming her name frantically as he went through the remaining rooms, then got back on his phone to call the security staff.

Her _stuff_ was there, but she was long gone.


End file.
